


Revolutionary Human Leon

by gorgeousshutin



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors, Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: If Akio is a pet then what about Anthy?, Multi, Ohtori now has an Aquarium btw, Shin Pet Shop of Horrors' Ending, What "Pet" is Akio?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 12:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11943807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeousshutin/pseuds/gorgeousshutin
Summary: Even humans, when given the right chance, can fly high and grasp eternity. This is the story of how Leon earned the time-defying youthfulness he displays at the final pages of Shin Pet Shop of Horrors.   Begins weeks before Shin's final chapter, and twenty years after Utena's and original PSoH's ending.  No prior knowledge of Utena is necessary, as SKU elements will be introduced from scratch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tatselk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatselk/gifts).



> Much thanks to @tatselk for inspiring this idea, and @wizards-7, @juniperstreet, @fireyfobbitmedicine, @gentlemanlyrabbit and others on tumblr for your encouragements! You guys make this happen ;-)

Pet Shop of Horrors and Utena characters belong to their various owners.  
  
  
They crossed at the sandy shore of sea-hugged Houou City. Man and boy; he himself tall and blond, the boy dark and lean. Both aliens to this upscale Japanese town, the rugged wanderer allowed for the cultured young dandy to humor him as they strode down the palm-shaded beach. Arriving via the New Chitose Airport? Such a lovely entry into the land of rising sun. Chitose just got this sense of eternity to it, won’t you agree? Do you know? The beach gives view to a spectacular sunset. After sundown, the stars are brilliant at night. One hardly needs to visit the local Planetarium, if not for the novelty of the act. Talking about stars, here we are at the lagoon cave. Yes, even in a city like Houou, nature’s perseverance has left its mark. Beyond this tiny opening is a vast interior boasting a wondrous ecosystem almost completely unto itself. Starfishes with arms like feathery plums, urchins boasting crayons of violets and blues . . . But you don’t really care for tidal pool invertebrates, do you? A man like you . . .  
  
“I didn’t come with you to fuck if that’s what you’re thinking, kiddo.”  
  
“Oh?” Stopping, the boy looked up from where he knelt in front of him with wide green eyes (looking so innocuous as to be even more suspicious). “Then for what have you followed me all the way here, to the end of the beach?”  
  
“It’s your scent,” replied the blond man, keen gaze upon the dew-drops (sea water? sweat?) currently coating this silver-haired exotic’s dark complexion.  
  
“My . . . scent?”  
  
“You have a sweet, nostalgic scent that shouldn’t belong to a beach, let alone a sea cave.”  
  
The man reached down a hand. The boy reached up. The latter rose even as he pulled, offering him the illusion of being feather-light, ethereal. Damn, thought the man, not even _that person_ \-- more androgynous though he might be -- could compare with this homme fatale’s smothering, hair-raising sensuality  
  
“Professor Ohtori Akio, I presume?” he said, staring down upon the other male -- tall, but still shorter than himself -- in hopes of upholding some aural high ground over this electrifying creature. “You look even younger in person than you do in photos.”  
  
Somehow, Ohtori Akio flushed at the word ‘Professor.’ There was, however, a cat-like coyness to his otherwise demur expression. “And you would be . . . ?”  
  
“Leon Orcot.” Leon flashed this impertinent creature his rugged, bestial grin. “Former LAPD. Current savior of rare and endangered species whose preservation was previously overlooked by the Washington Convention.”  
  
The former cop’s words ignited a peculiar glint from within the professor’s emerald greens. “Savior . . .”  
  
Eyes on Professor Ohtori’s, Leon stated his purpose: “I’ve come to save the newest addition to the Ohtori Aquarium: that shiny, miraculous creature whose discovery is said to have revolutionized modern biology.  
  
“The ‘Rose Prince.’ ”  
  
***  
  
The shop always had a sweet, nostalgic scent. That was what Jill had said, and Leon had been using that piece of info as his primary lead towards finding D again because Jill, like himself, had perfect Cop’s intuition. So perfect, in fact, that she had since taken over after their Chief’s retirement. It had been twenty years since, more than enough time for a diligent cop like Jill to rise to the top, and for everyone else still working at LAPD to forget Leon ever existed. Of his old associates, only Jill alone had remained in contact with him throughout his decades long “self-exile” (as she called it); she alone had remained understanding –- of not always supportive –- of his fool’s quest.  
  
“I’m still helping you with this -- in this day and age -- because if I don’t, no one else will.”  
  
“Jill--”  
  
Chief Jill Freshney silenced her life-long friend with a lift of her hand.  
  
“Back then, you said you saw yourself falling off the Count’s ship when in reality, we all saw you on the hospital bed in that coma.” Her eyes upon him were humorless and hard -- a stark contrast to the twinkle-dotted pools they were in her younger days. “It hurts us to see how you haven’t stopped falling since.”  
  
Leon, who had nothing to say to that, reached for his cigarette . . . before stopping as he remembered just how damned sensitive that fire alarm was in the LAPD Chief’s office. Crazy as he may have become by the world’s definition, the middle-aged ex-detective-turned-wanderer was not unaware of the where and when. It was not like he was oblivious to just how much of a drag his decades-long D search had been for everyone who cared about him.  
  
A sigh escaped Jill’s lips, followed a self-depreciating softening of her tight expression. “Even when I say ‘us’ . . . it’s really only me and Chris these days who still remember that time, who still buy your story about the ‘Kamis.’ ”  
  
“We both know the ‘story’ is real, Jill”  
  
“Real or not, we both know how your part in that story was long since over.”  
  
_“Your journey ends here. Humans have not earned the right to board this ship.”_  
  
Leon’s final memory of D consisted of the Kami having a tear in a golden eye, and a hand over the man’s chest. Back then, D pushed, and Leon fell; off the flying ship he had no right to board, before plummeting right through a human society he could no longer fit back into. With nothing left to gain footing upon, Leon had -- as Jill called it -- been left falling ever since.  
  
All because of one cowardly, human-hating “god” who fucking stole his life before leaving him to rot in the shambles of a crumbled reality. If that is D’s sick way of making him suffer for killing the genocidal Papa D, then Leon must admit this to be an utmost effective revenge.  
  
The bastard.  
  
“I get you, Leon. You’re the type who’d never back down from a challenge, and would fight on until the very end. But perseverance is only admirable when it serves a purpose. Your futile D search has already eaten away twenty years of your life. If you don’t let it go now, you might end up going down with it.  
  
“Look at Chris. For the first couple of years, he was always going on about how you must find the Count. Now, he is a brilliant talent of the FBI living with both feet firmly on the ground. He no longer cares if his drawing may never reach the Count: he’s old enough to understand how one’s feelings are not always reciprocated, that what’s not meant to be may simply never be.”  
  
Leon’s head hung (even lower) at those words. Long ago, back before D, he and Jill had dated casually; had, in fact, slept together a couple of times even. Back then, the young buck he was thought it was no big deal, since Jill had acted so casually over the not quite relationship. Twenty years later, the eligible bachelorette that Jill was had remained not just single, but celibate. Even an insensitive fool like Leon knew he himself was not without guilt in this matter.  
  
“Even though I’m saying all this . . . I, too, want to see this end.”  
  
The abrupt turn in Jill’s stance, followed by her placing a big envelope upon the desk, had Leon –- slouched over from the weight of reality before –- straightening up. Something in the air had changed as per the envelope’s appearance, something that incited within him a sense of déjà vu . . .  
  
“This is . . . ?”  
  
“Maybe the best lead to the Count we’ve managed to come across throughout the last two decades.”  
  
Leon picked up the envelope –- which was surprisingly hefty –- with his heart pounding. “This scent . . . ”  
  
“I smell my grandma’s home-baked cookies.” Jill’s voice came marred by an anxious tremor. “And you?”  
  
“. . . the frigging Petshop.” Leon gritted out the word from between his teeth. “Though, there’s also the smell of flowers mixed within.”  
  
“This got delivered to my place, but is addressed to you,” Jill supplied, tapping at the recipient’s name with her pen. “They even knew that you have no permanent address, and that I’m sure to contact you over this.”  
  
“The bastard . . .” Opening the envelope (its flower-motif wax seal since broken), Leon saw a sizable stack of documentations, photos, ids . . . along with a small note scribbled in elegant ink writing:

                _To the hero who can break the Rose Prince out of his shell, please come to the Ohtori Aquarium._  
  
_Upon succeeding, you shall be granted the ticket to board the Ship in the Sky, namely ‘Eternity.’_  
  
_You will be shown how even humans can fly; yes, even you._  
  
  
**To be continued . . . ?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took quite a bit longer that I thought it would. Hope you like, tatselk!

Pet Shop of Horrors and Utena characters belong to their various owners.

  
They walked on, deeper into the cave lagoon. Within here was a short cut towards Ohtori Aquarium, said Ohtori Akio. Even knowing that Ohtori Aquarium is located within Ohtori Academy’s campus, which sat high atop the peninsula’s hilltop, Leon nonetheless followed the Professor down the watery bowels of Houou, just to see what the man was up to. This was, after all, a most mundane setting compared to the sweet-scented, dimension-defying corridors inside D’s Pet Shop.  
  
“ . . . it’s roses.”  
  
“Hn?” Leon turned towards Akio, who gestured at their surrounding with a sweep of a long arm.  
  
“This scent upon me originates from this cave, where roses bloom.”  
  
“Roses . . . ?” Blinking, Leon re-opened his eyes to see the vast interior of the cave to be coated under long lengths of barbed vines, from which rounds and crowns of dark-petal-ed flowers were flaring abloom. “Here? Inside a sea cave, where the sun don’t shine?”  
  
“These black roses flourish by seeping up the darkness,” Akio said, his voice wistful as his tone was dark. “They have no need to go under the sun . . . ever.” The words came nonsensical and cryptic, just like D’s.  
  
Leon would not be here otherwise.  
  
“Even though there’s no sun, I can see somehow.”  
  
“The bioluminescent organisms inhabiting these waters are lighting our way.”  
  
“Wow.” A better look at his surroundings make Leon realize how the stripes of waters (tidal pools?) franking their narrow path were filled with _glowing corals_ bright enough to cast shades upon the black roses lining the cave walls. “Kinda miraculous to see marine wildlife being so well-preserved in a bustling college town like this.” Not quite as mundane a setting as he priory thought, for sure.  
  
Akio regarded the ethereal scene with this strange, bittersweet expression. “It does take a miracle for all this to be, yes.” The Professor then launched into this impassionate speech about the fragile beauty of marine shore life, the content of which Leon ignored in favor of something else about the man.  
  
Akio’s clothes –- some gentleman’s high-end leisure wear –- had remained unsoiled in spite of the cave’s general muckiness. Not unlike how D’s cheongsam (it took Leon years to get the term right) would always remain immaculate, be he treading through a tropical forest, or coming out of a raging storm . . .  
  
“ . . . led me to meet a special person like you.”  
  
“Special?” The term jolt Leon out of his revere. “Me?”  
  
At his reaction Akio laughed his cultured laugh. “You’re not particularly self-conscious, are you? You, with your great perseverance that carried you through your long, incredible journey . . .”  
  
“ . . . what’d you mean ‘journey?’ ” asked Leon, feeling hair raising along his arms.  
  
Akio’s emerald green eyes -- no doubt seeing his ruffled nerves -- narrowed in a playful, sultry grin. “I guess you truly do not realize the greatness of your feat. From an LAPD Detective to a special agent of the CITES, that is one journey to be reckoned with. You are at the very least a brilliant man of great perseverance . . . and multiple façades, Agent. Orcot.”  
  
“Right . . .” Appraising words they may be, Leon still detected a note of jabbing slyness within Akio’s tone; just like . . . enough, he had to stop comparing every little thing about this Akio to D, and just focus on getting to D through whatever “Ohtori Akio” really is. “Well, I’m sure I’m no match for you when it comes to _façades_ , Professor Ohtori.”  
  
***  
  
“This can’t be right . . .”  
  
That delivered stack of paperwork came formatted like some detailed detective’s report, offering info that ranged from the nature of the “Rose Prince,” to everything about this Ohtori Academy Aquarium currently housing the rare creature. All looked fine to Leon’s trained eyes, until he got to the part about the aquarium staff, where the head curator’s background threw him for a loop.  
  
“So . . . this Professor Ohtori Akio has been at Ohtori Academy since the nineties?” he asked, squinting his eyes at the images of this well-dressed, too-beautiful Indian youth captured at various upscale social functions. “Looks barely old enough to drink.”  
  
“Since the _seventies_ , according to some additional stuff I’ve dug up on the guy.” Jill handed him another folder of her own findings. “Seems like this Ohtori Akio went by ‘Himemiya Akio,’ before his engagement to Ohtori Kanae got him adopted into her Family in ‘97.”  
  
“Damn . . . .” Taking Jill’s folder, Leon marveled at the black and white photos where this Akio – looking exactly like he did now – posed with a number of antiquated-looking people against various clearly dated backgrounds. “This guy really hasn’t aged a day in _forty_ frigging years.”  
  
“Reminds you of someone?” Jill asked, giving him a meaningful look.  
  
Leon thought he got his friend’s drift. “You also think he’s one of D’s kind?”  
  
“Beautiful. Aristocratic. Ageless. At first glance, Ohtori Akio does appear to share certain common traits with the Count. However . . .”  
  
“However . . . ?”  
  
Elbows popped onto the office desk, Jill rested her chin atop crossed fingers -- a gesture that made her look a little more her old playful self. “Twenty years before his marriage to Ohtori Kanae, the guy had apparently dated Kanae’s mother, Ohtori Hoshimi –- now the wife of the Academy’s current chairman.”  
  
She then produced three different pictures to lay out in front Leon: a black and white Polaroid where Akio was seen waltzing with a glamour girl at a ball, a colored photo showing him putting a ring on a classy lass’s finger at an engagement party, and a printed image of this same Don Juan now clubbing with a goth lolita at some rave scene.  
  
“Dating Ohtori Hoshimi had made him a member of Ohtori’s Board of Trustees back in the seventies.  
  
“Being engaged to Ohtori Kanae made him Ohtori Academy’s Acting Chairman back in the nineties. Even though they never married, he’s retained the Chairman gig.  
  
“Until now, twenty years and a few more degrees later, his impending marriage to Ohtori Kanae’s daughter, Ohtori Dyako, has made him Professor Ohtori -- Head Curator of Ohtori Academy Aquarium.”  
  
“Holy piece of work . . .” Leon whistled at the sheer absurdity of the info presented. “And I thought _I_ was wild in my younger days.”  
  
Jill chuckled dryly. “Ohtori Akio has basically involved himself with the Ohtori ladies for generations: getting passed down from one heiress to the next, living off one woman after the other.” She leaned across the desk to face Leon with a telling glint within her bespectacled eyes. “Almost like this long-lived family _pet,_ don’t you think?”  
  
At that, Leon made a more conscious effort to analyze the various expressions as captured on print. “You suspect this Akio guy is a pet D sold to the Ohtoris.”  
  
Jill tapped a manicured nail-tip against a picture. “You and Chris both said that the Count’s pets can adopt human appearances, right?”  
  
Leon clucked his tongue. Indeed, Ohtori Akio does possess an exotic, decadent streak similar to certain “pets” he had seen on D’s Ship. However . . .  
  
“No. The vibes I’m getting from this Akio is somewhat different from D’s pets. He somehow seems more . . .” Leon scratched at his blond head in search for the right words. “ . . . worldly? Just less natural and direct . . . less animalistic, definitely.”  
  
“Hm. “ Jill crossed her arms as she settled back into her office armchair. “Then you still think he’s a Kami like D?”  
  
“Nah.” Leon shook his head. “He also seem different from D . . .” Which could mean little in terms of the question. D’s father was as night to D’s day, not to mention that bat bunny grandpa . . . “I can’t be sure though until I get to meet this guy in person.”  
  
“Well, here’s your chance.” Jill produced from the envelope some more documentation. “The mystery package comes with a surprisingly authentic fake id intended for your use. I checked; ‘Agent Leon Orcot’ is actually on CITES’ staff list. Whomever sent this to us have influence over pretty high places.”  
  
“At last.” Lips parted in bated breath, Leon reached for the documentation. “Someone else who knows about D . . . down to my final memory of him on that flying ship.” At last, the man thought as his old, cold heart came heated anew. At last . . .  
  
“The only way to confirm who they are, why they approached you, whether they really can lead you to the Count, is for you to go to Ohtori Academy Aquarium using this identity.” Looking every bit as anxious as Leon himself currently felt, Jill handed him the (fake) CITES id card. “The way before you have since been prepared . . . ‘Agent Orcot.’ ”  
  
***  
  
“Here we are.”  
  
They now were in front of this towering pair of grand, gothic style stone gates blocking off the high tunnel, one adorned by a colossal stone rose flowering at the top. Rose motif engravings covered its pristine white surface, marred only by the black rose vines spreading over from the cave walls  
  
“This is one of the more interesting back entrances into the Aquarium,” said Akio. “Has been a while since it has seen some usage.”  
  
“Very . . . antiquated back entrance for such a modern aquarium,” commented Leon with a pang in his heart. Cultured design against organic nature was a marked quality of D’s otherworldly surroundings. To think something so similar to the Pet Shop could be found right here underneath some Japanese college town . . .  
  
“The Aquarium was expanded from Ohtori Academy’s historical Marine Bioscience Department. The classical designs of the old building got incorporated into the new one.”  
  
Swallowing down his trepidation, Leon tapped his blunt fingertips against the handles, also webbed under thorny rose vines.  
  
“So where’s the card swipe? Or is it still using some key lock?”  
  
“Here, Agent Orcot.”  
  
“Wha--”  
  
The abrupt feeling of another hand -- so smooth and unlike his own -- on his had Leon turning sharply towards Akio. He then found himself face to face with something . . . shiny.  
  
“This is . . . ?”  
  
“The Rose Signet; the key to enter Ohtori Aquarium’s secret heart that has never been shown to outsiders before -- the Rose Prince’s sanctuary.”  
  
Leon saw that it was a signet ring, one designed with an identical rose motif to that of the gate. Whatever material the ring used was fluorescent against the dimness, and was engulfed under an aura at once ethereal and hypnotic.  
  
“Agent Orcot.” Akio had moved closer, such that his flawless, ageless face was right in front of Leon’s. “Will you put on this ring, and commit yourself to saving the Rose Prince?” The professor’s shirt, previously buttoned to the top, now was opened to reveal a stretch of smooth, chiseled musculature. “Or, you can still turn back . . . “  
  
Leon, who found himself at risk of being overwhelmed by Akio’s threatening, orientation-transcending male beauty, reacted as per his nature: he pounced back as though from an attack.  
  
“Give me that,” he grumbled, snatching the ring and putting it over his ring finger, before deliberately reaching out to pull at the gates’ handle. “There . . .”  
  
Leon saw Akio’s lash-framed green eyes twinkled with mirth, felt a a water drop hitting his ring finger, and stumbled as those tall, heavy gates rumbled to open, and _transform_ . . .  
  
  
**To be continued . . . ?**


	3. Chapter 3

Pet Shop of Horrors and Utena characters belong to their various owners.

  
  
First came the waters, rushing down the sides of their path in sea-scented torrents.  
  
Then came the change, where the stone rose shifted origami-like into a headless bird (a phoenix?) even as the gates beneath them open up to reveal something that had Leon doing a double take.  
  
It looked like a forest, except forests shouldn’t possibly exist so deep underground. Not only that, but there was light streaming down from the not-quite-sky above -- blue, cool light that cast ethereal shadings upon the spiral staircase looping upwards to heights unseen . . .  
  
. . . looking almost like Papa D’s aerial garden from twenty years ago.  
  
“ . . . shall we, Agent Orcot?” asked Akio, tall dark figure since walking up the stairs ahead of him. Leon followed him up the pristine white steps.  
  
“Rather . . . unusual design for an aquarium’s back entrance.”  
  
“ . . . reminds you of something?”  
  
Duh. The paradise lost where everything fell apart for him ever after, that’s what.  
  
“Kinda resembles a gastropod shell from where I’m looking,” said Leon, playing oblivious as he made a show of studying the stairs. “That’s the look the Aquarium’s going for, right? A shout out to the Rose Prince and his shell . . . . Though, most spiral staircases tend to look like shell interiors from the right perspective anyway.”  
  
“The right perspective.” Walking ahead, Akio’s musing voice echoed through this forest-like space in a way that reminded Leon of how they still were underground. “Such insight. I gather you’ve had interesting experiences with spiral staircases before?”  
  
By now, Leon was dead certain that this Akio was the one behind the mystery package, and that he was somehow privy to everything that had happened twenty years ago. Next step would be to use this kami/pet/whatever to find his way to D.  
  
It was then that he noticed something about the cage-barred pillar at the center of the spiraling stairs.  
  
“ . . . I see cables.”  
  
Akio’s reply sounded nonchalant: “Those are indeed cables, yes.”  
  
“Is this really an elevator cage shaft?”  
  
“It is.”  
  
Leon’s voice rose in spite of himself: “Why are we taking the stairs when there’s an _elevator?_ ”  
  
“I figure you’d appreciate a long walk more than a convenient ride.”  
  
The little . . . ! Leon could almost hear the smirk in Akio’s voice, this dark, masculine version of Not-D, who was nonetheless just as . . .  
  
. . . just as . . . ?  
  
That rosy scent was trailing behind Akio -- still walking ahead -- like thin veils, falling over his perceptions and dulling his senses.  
  
Leon had to summon all his willpower to uphold his defenses. “You seem to know a lot about me, even though I know nothing about you.” He ended up bumping against Akio, who stopped without warning. “Hey!”  
  
“You would’ve already gotten to know everything you need to know about me -- unto the ends of my being -- had you not refused me earlier on.”  
  
The comeback came low, luring. Wisps of Akio’s pale hair -– providing dramatic contrast against that dark olive complexion -- had since escaped his ponytail, their tail ends brushing against Leon’s nose tip in such a way that heat up the man’s face.  
  
That scent now had engulfed Leon in fans of invisible flames, forcing his breathing to speed up.  
  
“Surprised, Agent Orcot? That special someone you hold dear in your precious memory isn’t the only one who can exude a scent you find sweet and nostalgic.”  
  
“What makes you think I have someone?” asked Leon, fighting to keep his voice even.  
  
“Would you have refused me if there isn’t one?”  
  
Struck by the question, Leon fought inwardly to harden his resolve. “I don’t swing that way.”  
  
“Is that how you limit your options?” countered Akio, leaning further backwards to present his chiseled, smiling profile to Leon. “Such defenses . . . almost like you, too, have got this shell over you.” His shoulder now was bumping against Leon’s pectoral with a stealth, purposeful pressure. “One that keeps scary things out while locking you in . . .”  
  
Human resolve cracking, Leon found his hand reaching up for that slender chin as though with a life of its own . . .  
  
_“That’s not like you, Detective.”_  
  
The hand froze.  
  
_“Didn’t you say you were going to struggle and fight on until the very end?” asked D, straining to drag Leon’s wounded body up the ribbon of stairs and away from the suffocating smoke, unto the starry night . . ._  
  
That remembered scene -- D’s words from back then, especially -- had Leon jolting so far backwards and away from Akio, he almost ended up falling down the stairs.  
  
Akio, for his part, looked almost envious from where he glanced over a shoulder and down upon the flustered man. “ . . . a very special someone you’ve got, indeed.”  
  
What the _hell_ just happened? Leon wondered as he regained his breath. Succumbing to temptation from some blatant guy-guy –- however good-looking he might be –- was just so _not_ him! Leon Orcot liked tits and ass; or, at the very least, fair skin and soft bodylines. He did not, for the life of him, fancy tall dark broad-shouldered and lean. Even though this Akio looked smooth and not hairy . . . no! What was he thinking?! Some kinda magic must have been going on back then; mind-bending magic, just like D’s . . .  
  
“W-What were you thinking?!” he barked at Akio. “Coming on to me again and again – I’m here to w-work as a frigging professional dammit!”  
  
“It’s my nature,” replied Akio, matter-of-fact. “Whenever I see shining things I want to make them my own.”  
  
“Huh . . . ?” Akio’s peculiar wording reminded Leon of something he had seen or read before, though he could yet to draw any connections.

“Strange, isn't it?” Akio turned away from him to stare upwards and at the spiraling, shell-like staircase. “I feel like whenever I get close to someone I make them mine.” His voice dropped, as though from melancholic recollection of some hazy, distant past. “But people -- especially those shiny, brilliant ones -- are not things. Even should you try holding onto them, with commitment, lust, or even precious shared memories, they still would remain free, belonging to nobody.” That voice sank lower, turning dark, ominous. “They belong to nobody.”  
  
“Um . . . yeah.” Hurrying up -- passing Akio as though fleeing -- Leon now struggled to find something to say, to lessen the awkwardness of this situation. “Must admit it’s a real impressive underground terrarium you’ve got here.” He gestured at those nimble shadowy things fluttering by overhead. “I can even see all these big birds flying in the sky, however the Academy’s been making this happen . . .”  
  
“ ‘Birds?’ ”  
  
Blinking at Akio’s ironic tone, Leon now found his vision sharpening up under brightening lights, such that he now had a much better view of those “shadowy” things’ macabre appearances. “What the devil . . . fish?”  
  
Indeed those were stingrays, ugly undersides exposed from where they swam above in what appeared to be a well-illuminated tank. The spiral staircase – which turned out to be an escalator – now was moving Leon and Akio up and through a vertical glass tunnel leading into a colossal, vibrant underwater garden in full bloom.  
  
“Look at the size of this tank!” exclaimed Leon, not caring if he sounded stupid saying this to the Aquarium’s Curator. “I think it dwarfs even the Ocean Voyager Gallery at Georgia Aquarium!” That, and even the biology novice that he was recognize how a reef tank -- with its complicated ecosystem -- was far more difficult to maintain than a fish-only one.  
  
“To preserve marine life forms in captivity, humans harvest live rocks off the various seas of the world.” Akio, appearing down just moments ago, now came alive with a pride so potent, it bestowed a sort of magnificence upon his very person. “For the sake of keeping the Rose Prince, an entire shoreline -- including its many inhabitants -- had been calved out and relocated over from the area he’s been discovered at.”  
  
“Is that where the sunken ship came from as well?” murmured Leon, taking in the surreal visage of the seaweed-infested vessel –- a historic Asian wooden ark of a highly similar style to D’s Ship –- with a pang in his heart. The thing just so happened to be placed against a cliff adorned under pentagonal starfish, a backdrop that much resembled the cartoon-ish sea of stars from back then . . .  
  
“There is no living body of water more vibrant than this one here.” If Akio noticed Leon’s wistfulness, it did not show. Dark complexion flushed, the Professor made a grand, seeping gesture at the innumerable marine creatures milling about their stunning aquatic surroundings. “This aquarium is the summit of Japan’s aquatic biotechnology, and of the world.”  
  
“The tank’s mad grand, for sure.” Getting his level of awe under control, Leon came to have the following question: “But won’t you guys lose sight of the Rose Prince in this mini-sea?”  
  
“The Rose Prince is territorial and keeps to his area,” explained Akio, prior to pointing at a large cave located some distance away. “Behold.”  
  
Leon got a good look into the cave, and saw something that had him gasping in shock –- that, even after all that he had already seen thus far.  
  
There, past the flowery clutters (corals? sponges?) framing the cave’s opening, was the unmistakable sight of a standing _coffin_ \-- one marked by that same rose motif he saw from before. Under his horrified gaze, the coffin’s door drifted open to reveal this beautiful youth –- garbed in formal, princely white –- curled on his side upon a bed of roses.  
  
That coffined youth -- his hair and cape adrift underwater -- looked a splitting image of Ohtori Akio.  
  
  
**To be continued . . . ?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep commenting if you wanna see this continued ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is at last! Sorry for the delay, as real life sucked and kept me from being productive. All mistakes are result of how hurried an effort this is.

 Pet Shop of Horrors and Utena characters belong to their various owners.

 

 

“ . . . a crab?”

Back before his trip to Sapporo, back in LA, Jill’s office, Leon found himself baffled by what info they were given about this enigmatic ‘Rose Prince’ he was supposed to ‘save.’

“A goddamned _crustacean._ ” The man clucked his teeth, feeling stupid. “That’s what all this damned fuzz is over?”

“They say it’s the _rarest_ one in the world,” stressed Jill, sounding dubious herself. “Discovered off the shores of Sapporo around 40 years ago, it’s apparently the only known naturally occurring hybrid between the anemone hermit crab and the coconut crab. The Ohtori Family, who funded the expedition in acquiring the creature, even went as far as to build an aquarium facility to house and feature the precious commodity. Being a male crustacean, they named him the ‘Rose Prince.’ ”

“And this aquarium is not even open to public?” marveled Leon as he skimmed the info. “These Ohtoris sure have money to burn.”

“Considering their influence over Japan’s political and economic landscape, I’d say they do,” said Jill, pulled up a new page on her computer’s screen to show Leon the search results on “Ohtoris.” Leon whistled at the sparkly headlines as listed.

So people and supernatural beings both gravitate towards the rich and the influential; unsurprising, that. It is in all living things’ best interest to, well, serve their best interest. What easier way is there for self-empowerment than to align oneself with those already powerful? Even D, with his vast supernatural might, had immersed himself within L.A.’s high society back in the day; had, in fact, been a very good friend of the then mayor, who covered his ass throughout each and every pet-related incident, before getting knocked aside by the (even mightier) FBI . . .

Had he stayed with the LAPD back then, worked his way up, maybe climbing the ladder into politics or something, would D have reappeared in life then? To date, Leon Orcot was a forty-five year old drifter making do with odd jobs here and there. Even should he ever get to meet D again, how would he look to the Kami’s mismatched eyes? Would D –- young, aristocratic, eternal -- turn up his thin nose at “Mr. Detective’s” now weathered flesh and over-worn clothes? Or, would he merely kept up that fake smile of old, pushing him back while revealing nothing?

. . . would D _pity_ him, seeing the shambles of a man he had since become?

“Leon?”

Almost jolting at Jill’s voice, he turned to face his friend with what he hoped was a convincing nonchalant front. “Where’re the pictures of the prized crab?”

“Why?” asked Jill -- who, Leon could tell, was making a visible effort in masking _her_ pity for him and his sorry situation.

Leon went on, nonetheless: “Remember the things I’ve told you? About what I’ve seen on my trips?”

“That you came across certain animals that only you can see as humans?” asked Jill, raising a brow. “Just like how it was on Count D’s ship?”

“In those few times where I’ve almost managed to pin D down, I would always chance upon one of those beforehand.” Leon looked inwards, and back at those distant times. “A housewife who turned out to be a housecat, a guide dog that looked like a well-dressed manservant, a winged lion statue that transformed into a humanoid angel from day to night . . . the list goes on.” Leon ran an anxious tongue around the ridges of his canines. “Supposed this Rose Prince has a human form that I can see . . . then we know we’re definitely onto something here.”

“You can tell something like this even from a printed image?”

“I dunno,” shrugged Leon. “Never tried before, but it’s worth trying now.”

“Well . . .” Jill scratched at her chin. “Here’s the thing. The Ohtori Aquarium had never released any pictures of the creature -– not even to scientific communities. For all this time, no one working at Ohtori had leaked anything to the public, either.” She glanced down upon the papers in front of them with a perturbed frown. “It’s almost like this Rose Prince existed solely in myth form . . . a fantastical story to lure you to Ohtori.”

Leon let out an involuntary snort. “Like anybody had anything to gain from ‘luring’ me anywhere these days.”

“Don’t be too sure,” cautioned Jill. “At the very least, they knew of your prior involvement with Count D. Here we are thinking of using them to track down the Count. They might also be thinking of using you for the same, supposed they are somehow after the Count as well.”

Leon felt his face heating up at listening to Jill. To think such a blatant possibility had eluded him till now . . . he truly had gone rusty since leaving the Force; that, and how he was simply getting old.

“ . . . and what’s all this about breaking the Rose Prince out of his shell?”

“About that . . .”

***

“The problem is, as you can see, a grave one.”

“I can see that . . .”

The spiraling escalator took them straight through the cylindrical tunnel, out of the ocean of a reef tank, and into this massive hall resembling a sci-fi embellishment of the NASA Control Room. Screens, large and small, dominated the tall walls and vast ceilings to surround rolls of workstations manned by uniform-wearing staff cast into crisp silhouettes by surrounding lights.

The screens –- all with the text ‘Kage OS’ flashing at the bottom -- displayed numerous videos and stills of the Rose Prince. Interestingly, even via video display, Leon could see the creature alternating between an exotic crustacean and the Akio-doppelganger he saw from before (one he assumed none of the staff can see). The crustacean had its long, elegant claws protruding from what that looked like a deformed, diseased dinosaur’s egg to Leon (yes, it was that large).

“How long has he been like this?” asked Leon, noting just how cramped the ‘egg’ looked around the crab’s colossal form.

“Twenty years now.” Akio closed his eyes as though overwhelmed by intimate, personal memories. “Yes . .. it has already been that long since his old shell got smashed, leaving the once glorious Prince in this dismal state.”

The view shifted, and Leon again saw the Prince –- the Akio-doppelganger –- holed up within his half-opened coffin, where cracks came faintly visible across the luxuriant rose motifs.

“You know what that is?”

At Akio’s low, ominous voice, Leon’s visual of the coffined Prince reverted back to the large crab wearing the ugly “egg”.

“The Bryolith. The egg of the Prince.

“This is the smashed shell as reborn from the symbiotic relationship the Prince has since formed with the bryozoans in the water.”

The video now showed recorded footages of how the crab was shown picking up what looked like shell fragments with a desolate, wounded-seeming slowness to its motions.

“The broken pieces –- recollected by the Prince himself -- are now held together by the countless filter feeders cluttering around his immediate vicinity.

“Even this has since become constricting to the Prince and his ever-expanding dimensions.”

Feeling an impending headache from the onslaught of convoluted info, Leon pinched at the spot between his brows. “And the reason he’s unwilling to come out of this bryo . . . egg thing is because . . . ?”

“The Prince remains unable to attain the tough exterior –- the exoskeleton –- that would give him the confidence to leave this shell behind,” replied Akio, voice brittle as his stance was rigid.  He gestured at a screen showing a 3D model of the crab’s lower body getting crushed inside the egg structure’s cramped interior. “Without timely intervention, this Bryolith may well become the Prince’s final shell –- his very coffin.”

“What caused the change in the Prince’s behavior though?” asked Leon, cutting to the point. “From what I’ve been . . . informed of, the Rose Prince had no problem changing shells in the past. It was only after the incident with the old shell getting smashed that he’s come to . . . stagnate, refusing to change, even when change is crucial to his survival.”

“Stagnate?” Jolting as though stabbed, Akio then cut at Leon with a gaze sharp as it was heated. “I would imagine the CITES must have briefed you on what had happened prior to sending you over, Agent Orcot.” Behind him, the screen showed a live video of the crab raising its claws in apparent aggression.

_‘Figured you’d get personally insulted,’_ thought Leon, now dead certain that the ageless “Professor Akio” and the submerged “Rose Prince” are one and the same despite _both being present,_ somehow. Perhaps neither physics nor logic need apply here. Perhaps this ultra-grand aquarium building was no more “real” than the Pet Shop’s flying ship of a backroom. Perhaps this place really was the interior of the egg-thing the crab was wearing, with that spiral staircase from earlier on the interior of the broken shell, and the massive staff those many filter-feeders holding the pieces together . . .

“I had the bare rundown,” said the ex-cop, holding up his composure as he met this enigmatic entity’s hard gaze with his own. “I now need details if I’m gonna help get our prized crab out of his shell.”

“Details? On what?”

“On a term that came up on reports of how the Prince lost his old shell -- the _Rose Bride._ ”

The widening of Akio’s green eyes told Leon that yes, he had indeed chanced upon something of significance; something crucial to solving this puzzle that may or may not lead him to D. The man pressed on, hoping he was playing the game right:

“It was said that forty years ago, the Rose Prince was acquired by Ohtori Academy along with another creature bonded symbiotically to him, a rare find that the Academy had named the Rose Bride.

“It was the Rose Bride’s presence that made the Rose Prince special. Otherwise, a solitary coconut crab -- no matter how rare -- would be labeled a ‘palm thief’ at most. Without his ‘rose,’ he could never have attained ‘princehood’ in the eyes of the world.

“It was inferred in text how it was the trauma of losing the Rose Bride that left the Rose Prince stuck in this sorry state, unable to move forward.”

Sometime during his talking, Akio had seemingly . . . withered. His once assured stance had since slackened, his broad shoulders stooped. The handsome “youth” with his big presence now looked small, young . . . fragile. Determined to move things along, Leon hardened his heart against such display of vulnerability.

“ _What_ exactly happened twenty years ago?”

“Twenty years ago . . . .” Head lowered, such that his upper profile was obscured under wavy silver fringe, Akio spoke with his jaws set and his voice low: “The exact story is one that may seem unbelievable to you. Are you sure you want to know?”

“I’ll do what I’ve come for,” insisted Leon, not giving ground.

“ . . . very well then.” Lifting his head, Akio revealed to the startled man a mask of an indolent smirk, one that resembled . . . (stop, Leon told himself; no more comparing of this Akio to _him_ again if he could help it). He then sauntered up and towards Leon, such that they now were face to face. “I’ll show you . . . yes, even you.”

And, before Leon could have reacted, Akio had already grabbed him by the left hand, and was aiming the crest of his Rose Signet at the massive main screen ahead.

Leon thought he heard a faint beep from the ring (he wasn’t sure), before all screens blacked out, plunging the room into abrupt dimness. Adjusting his vision to their now murky, velvety surroundings, the man found himself facing shadows on a vast wall -– shadows that looked like sharp silhouettes of a trio of willowy, agile schoolgirls, who _chorused_ the following:  
  
“Do you know? Do you know?

“Do you wonder what we know . . .?

“That which cannot be told until now -- the Tale of the Prince's Missing Rose.”

 

**To be continued . . . ?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am going back to work on Seinen Kakumei Utena, least it go dead from inactivity. Please keep the C&C coming though ~


End file.
